Sanguine and the Order of the Phoenix
by L'Angleterre
Summary: The Daedric Princes decide to meddle with the wizarding world and the mortal plane, by becoming human. They become entangled in plots involving the Order of the Phoenix and Voldemort - with the Princes involved, who will end up successful? Sort of following canon events, but my memory is hazy so there may be inconsistencies. This story is a crossover between Harry Potter and TES.
1. Chapter 1

This story is a crossover between Harry Potter and Skyrim, with some brief references to other ESO lore. The Daedric Princes decide to meddle with the wizarding world and the mortal plane, by becoming human. They become entangled in plots involving the Order of the Phoenix and Voldemort - with the Princes involved, who will end up successful? Sort of following canon events, but my memory is hazy so there may be inconsistencies.

Sanguine - Sam Guevenne HB 5th Year Slytherin

Sheogorath - Gareth Sheogorath MB 5th Year Ravenclaw

Vaermina - Gideon Weasley PB 3rd Year Hufflepuff

Hermaeus Mora - Hermaeus Rowle PB 7th Year Ravenclaw

Mephala - Mephala Carrow PB 7th Year Slytherin

Boethiah - Bella Dartmoor MB 5th Year Gryffindor

Molag Bal - N/A PB 5th Year Gryffindor

Clavicus Vile - Atlas Malfoy PB 6th Year Slytherin

Meridia - Meridia Vivian MB 5th Year Ravenclaw

Namira - Namira Wilder MB 5th Year Slytherin

Peryite - Perry Wells HB 1st Year Ravenclaw

Azura - Azure Lux HB 2nd Year Hufflepuff

[The other Princes are only named in passing. Please note that this can be confusing, hence why I've only used a limited number of princes and tried to keep their names relatively obvious. If need be, you can always refer to the list above. Apologies for any inconsistencies!]


	2. Chapter 2

_The Sorting and the Feast_

The Sorting Ceremony was as painfully dull as usual, in Sanguine's opinion, at least. The only things that made it remotely tolerable were the glares between Molag and Boethiah (nothing new, but still fun to spectate) and Sheogorath pulling faces at him from the Ravenclaw table, where he was getting occasional nudges from Hermaeus, who looked rather exasperated.

'Looks like Peryite's up now, eh?' Clavicus muttered, as _Wells, Perry_ , was called to be sorted. His fabricated appearance suited his personality to the tee, in Sanguine's humble and modest opinion: pale and sickly, slicked back black hair and a thin, twiggy build.

'He wasn't very imaginative with his name,' Sanguine grumbled - somewhat hypocritically - as the Daedra was sorted into Ravenclaw, where Hermaeus was now glowering at having to deal with yet another "foolish youth". The headmaster cleared his voice and said something that Sanguine was almost certain had something to do with Harry Potter (it always was, as far as this school was concerned) and the food appeared before them. Meridia was now sending Namira very disapproving looks as she dug into the beef with a little too much zeal.

Once their meals had disappeared, without much warning, Clavicus rose reluctantly as he realised that it was now his job to lead the Slytherin first years to the common room as a sixth year Prefect, alongside Malfoy, his little "brother". Sanguine still felt slightly uneasy about that. Boethiah had managed to give Molag a black eye already, Sanguine noted. He owed Sheogorath a galleon now, which he slipped into the smug Daedra's palm as they passed each other.

'It's sexual tension. You should see that,' Sheo explained with a grin. Sanguine just shook his head and followed Clavicus and the pretty girl that he'd slept with at some point down to the dungeons, where they resided. He could've ended up with worse people, he knew that, but he would've preferred to share with someone as irritating as Hermaeus, just to have a fellow Daedra in his room. Unfortunately, he was the only fifth year Daedric Slytherin. While Malfoy was harping on to Crabbe about Hermaeus knows what, Sanguine sprawled out onto the bed, fully-clothed, and slipped into something that resembled sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

_The Toad and the Cannibal_

At breakfast the next morning, all Oblivion broke loose at the Gryffindor table. Sanguine watched in vague interest as Molag finally manned up and socked Boethiah in the jaw. That caught the attention of their new resident toad, Professor Umbridge, who docked points and doled out detentions to the pair, who were now sulking.

'How did I not see her yesterday?' he muttered to Clavicus, who rolled his eyes.

'You were too busy staring at... Gareth... Yesterday. Sam.' He threw in for good measure. Sanguine thanked Azura's lucky star that they weren't in Gryffindor, or the Granger girl would've figured them out before third year was up.

'I won't deny it. I'd do 'im,' Sanguine said with a shrug.

'You may wish to... Reconsider your phrasing, Guevenne,' Professor Snape drawled from behind them as the parchment with their timetables on were set before them.

'...Of course Professor,' Sanguine managed to choke out, while Clavicus was doing his best not to laugh - and failing miserably. He really didn't look like a Malfoy, Sanguine mused. His hair, for starters, was thick, brown and curly. He was often told he looked like his Aunt Bella, and Sanguine wasn't convinced that looking like a convicted murderer was a compliment. His jaw was also slightly sharper, so he also bore the nickname 'ferret face' thanks to the Golden Trio.

'Ah look, Barbas has our post,' Clavicus told him, pointing to his precious transfigured dog/ owl as their head of house swept away.

'I swear to Oblivion...' Sanguine muttered to himself as he flicked through the letters he'd received. One was from the orphanage he'd planted himself in when the sixteen of them decided to interfere with the mortal plane, two were from Azura (he set those on fire), one was from Hermaeus (no doubt whinging about how unfair the whole situation was) and the last was from Sheogorath. He tucked them away and beckoned for Namira to follow him.

'What is it this time?' the cannibal asked impatiently. Sanguine noted that her addiction and craving were taking over, if the slight tremor in her hands was anything to go by.

'We all made a deal that we wouldn't bring mortal accomplices,' he whined. 'That toad you brought - you've broken the rules again already!' Namira looked highly offended at his accusation.

'I didn't break the rules this time,' she argued. 'This was all happening anyway. She just happens to be delightfully repulsive.' Sanguine found that a little hard to believe, but she didn't look to be lying. As the Daedric Prince of hedonism and the indulgence of ones innermost desires, Sanguine blessed her with what she wanted most at that moment, a small brown parcel, and she hurried off without another word; no doubt finding a dark corner in which to subdue her cannibalistic cravings. He shuddered, ever so slightly.


	4. Chapter 4

The Fight and the Potion

After breakfast, Sanguine had double potions with the Gryffindors, which meant that not only did he get to watch Molag - Boethiah interaction, but he could witness Potter being berated by his head of house. Malfoy, on the other hand, had started to vaguely irritate him from the fourth year onwards. He prayed (to, well, himself. He wasn't going to give Julianos or Stendarr the satisfaction) that he wouldn't be so insufferable this lesson.

'Look out, Potter,' Draco sneered as he shoved Potter, hard, as he walked to the supplies cupboard. It looked as though a little peace and quiet was too much to ask for. This had been entertaining for him, once upon a time when he felt vague pity for the Malfoy boy with the broken home, but he found himself simply not caring. Perhaps this was how teachers felt - he finally understood Professor Snape's hatred for children.

'Class.' Speaking of whom. The one word was enough to send the occupants of the room scrambling to their seats, with Sanguine sat beside Namira, his partner, and Molag and Boethiah on his other side.

In the lesson, they were supposed to be brewing an Invigoration Potion under the watchful eye of their Professor. Namira, after receiving her own little pick-me-up, was much more useful to him than usual, and was actually chopping ingredients, albeit badly. Sanguine was the self-proclaimed potion's master of the two, and was spinning around happily as he picked up ingredients and stirred them in. Molag and Boethiah (Hermaeus knows why) were partnered together and were still squabbling over the ingredients - presumably, Molag wanted to be in charge of the potion making, and Boethiah was having none of it.

After watching in amusement as the pair of arguing Gryffindors lost twenty points, Sanguine handed in his and Namira's potion and the pair departed the room ten minutes early. Namira disappeared off to... wherever she tended to occupy herself, while Sanguine headed to the nifty little Room of Requirement to meet Sheo, Mephala and Vaermina during their free period.


	5. Chapter 5

_The Secret Room and the Detentions_

'That was probably the worst lesson ever,' Mephala, a seventh year Slytherin, complained as he threw himself onto a squishy cream sofa, not dissimilar (or at least, Sanguine assumed) to the ones in his manor.

'I hate my house,' Vaermina hissed. Sanguine couldn't help but snort, because the prince of omens and nightmares was a really short Hufflepuff, and he found it hilarious. The aforementioned Daedra flicked Mephala in the forehead until she shifted, grumbling, to make room. Sanguine took a cautious seat beside Sheo, who was smirking - never a good sign; he didn't even need to ask Vaermina on that one.

'I heard a nice little rumour,' he began, 'that Namira's pet has blood quills.' How he'd heard that on their second day was beyond Sanguine, but he nodded, encouraging the insane Ravenclaw to continue. 'For detentions. It would be a shame though, if a few people were put in detention with her, wouldn't it?' Sanguine definitely liked this plan.

'Molag and Boethiah have detention with her tonight,' Sanguine mused. 'That'll be interesting. Potter and Malfoy have DADA last. Might be able to get one of them in trouble.'

'I hope my whole house get detention,' Vaermina growled, readjusting her sleeves.

'Septima Weasley!' Mephala exclaimed, using Vaermina's mortal name, to her disgust. 'Why do you have so much hatred for your own house?' With a dirty look and a rather violent string of cussing, the readhead sat back down to sulk, muttering quietly about being "a disappointment to the family".

'Speaking of family,' Mephala muttered, turning to Sanguine, 'how are Hestia and Flora?' Her genuine attachment to his younger twin "sisters" never ceased to fascinate the other Daedra, who had no way of relating to her on that part, and had formed no real bonds with others (although Molag got along surprisingly well with McGonagall, and Hermaeus with Snape. Malacath and Luna had an odd affinity, although he was the only one who had been surprised).

'Fine,' Sanguine lied. 'Okay. Probably. Not a peep from them.' He mimed zipping his lips shut. Unfortunately for him, Clavicus was the one who kept an eye on them, and Namira watched out for them in the hallways - Sanguine really had no idea who they were, other than how they were identical and a year or two below him.

'I hate you all,' Hermaeus announced, storming through the double doors. Surprised, Vaermina yelped and almost sat on Mephala's head, resulting in the pair arguing and threatening each other. There were mentions of an Oblivion Crisis 2.0 ('one that'll actually work - Mehrunes did an awful job') and the Dragonborn was mentioned several times, but Sanguine had lost interest, and was also ten minutes late to Transfiguration.

He wasn't particularly bothered by the detention and lost house points, regardless of the glares he was getting. He had this class with the Ravenclaws, which meant a grand old hour (or forty five minutes) with Meridia and Sheogorath.

'I want to trigger him,' Meridia muttered, a smirk playing on her lips. 'Oi. Jygglag!' she said, just loud enough for him to hear.

'If you call me that again,' Sheogorath said, voice increasing in volume, 'you'll have an angry immortal playing jump rope with your entrails.' Certainly used to his odd behaviour (albeit not enough to disregard the situation entirely), McGonagall issued a slightly exasperated detention. Out of sixteen Daedric princes, Sanguine could count at least six of them who now had a detention: Molag and Boethiah got one for fighting at breakfast; Azura went a little overboard with the lumos and nox charms and had temporarily blinded her classmates; Hircine had set loose several Hippogriffs on his unfortunate CoMC professor; Vaermina had hexed three Hufflepuffs, and Sheogorath had threatened to use Meridia's guts as a skipping rope. The year was progressing well.


	6. Chapter 6

_The Holidays and the Hufflepuff_

It wasn't until a few weeks later that Sanguine heard of anything nearly as interesting happening. A rather disheartened Nocturnal approached him, to comment on how bad the golden trio ('Sanguine that's actually such a bad name.' 'Shut up Hermaeus.') were at being sneaky. Apparently, they'd formed a secret defence club because of how bad Namira's pet was at teaching, and seeing as it was a secret, Nocturnal knew all about it.

'Well I feel slightly insulted,' Sanguine muttered.

'Don't take it personally,' his fellow Slytherin replied with a shrug. 'They don't trust our house. Sheo'll probably invite you along anyway. Hermaeus knows why he got invited.' There was a pause before they simultaneously said "Lovegood". With a sigh, Sanguine deduced that they'd be meeting next weekend in Hogsmeade, probably somewhere where they could meet without drawing suspicion. After a moment, he disregarded the Shrieking Shack. It'd be one of the pubs, at a guess - Hermaeus would be proud of him.

'This looks suspicious,' Vaermina grumbled, appearing behind the two without so much of a sound. 'Discussing the secret defence club?'

'Did everyone know about this but me?' Sanguine demanded.

'Potter's been having some interesting dreams,' Vaermina said with a sigh. 'It's interesting to watch in. Twiddle some dials. If he weren't so dense, he'd find the hidden meaning in them.'

'We can't all be as good at finding things as you,' Sanguine quipped, unable to resist himself, before fleeing. It wasn't until he was a very safe distance away that he heard the cry of outrage from the indignant Hufflepuff.


	7. Chapter 7

_The Meeting and the 'Date'_

After a very rough few nights - kudos to their resident Prince of nightmares - Sanguine trudged down to breakfast on the morning of the Hogsmeade trip.

'Vaermina got to you?' Clavicus asked sympathetically.

'Shut up,' Sanguine replied, throwing his toast down on his plate with a scowl. 'You aren't even the prince of anything, you virgin.' Raising his hands in surrender, Clavicus returned to flicking through their post, shooting glances towards the rather moody Sanguine every now and then.

The pair headed down to the "horseless" carriages after breakfast in a bid to catch one for some of the Daedra. They'd need three or four carriages, but they had a tendency to stick to themselves.

'Excellent work ladies!" Sheo announced as he jumped up the step and took a seat by Sanguine. He was promptly followed by Molag and Boethiah, who fought over who would have to sit on someone's lap. Sheo, who would often settle disputes by sitting on Sanguine, leant back with a feral grin on his face - no more Mr Nice Daedra.

The pair had been so busy arguing that they hadn't noticed that they'd arrived until Clavicus shoved them out of the carriage - faces down in the snow - and trod on the back of Molag's head as he left without further discussion, Sanguine and Sheogorath just behind.

'So where's-' Sanguine cut himself off, because he'd just seen the Golden Trio enter the Hog's Head Inn.

'How inconspicuous!' Sheo exclaimed. 'Utter genius I tell you!' The pair stared at the Ravenclaw who was skipping towards the inn.

'What're we supposed to do with him?' Clavicus asked, eyebrows arched, as the Prince of Insanity linked arms with Looney Lovegood and they both skipped into the inn.

'Let Flitwick and McGonagall handle him,' Sanguine replied, shrugging. Honestly, Sheo getting kicked out would be the most amusing thing to happen since the Oblivion Crisis - alternatively known as a "Mehrunes Dagon rage quit". Forcing ones self into an alternate dimension was generally considered extreme, even for Daedric Monopoly games.

'Who invited those two?' Sanguine heard Hermione whisper to her little friends.

'Please can we pretend we're on a date?' Clavicus muttered to Sanguine, who smirked to himself, entwining his hand with Clavicus', to the immediate discomfort of most of the group. All present Daedra - excluding Hermaeus - watched on in interest.

'I'm literally trying to hard not to laugh,' Sanguine whispered to Clavicus, 'what'll Draco say if he finds out?' Snickering, Clavicus leant forwards until their noses touched.

'We could frame whoever told,' Clavicus replied, humming thoughtfully, 'say we were in this inn and whoever saw must've been up to something - why else would they be here?'

'How cunning,' Sanguine muttered, 'I'd expect that sort of behaviour from Mephala.' The pair were perfectly content to continue the charade for a while longer, but the secret meeting had gotten interesting.


	8. Chapter 8

_The Dodgy Deal and the Princess_

Once the "secret" club had decided that they were there to stay, Granger began, somewhat uneasily, still shooting glances in the direction of the Slytherin pair. Honestly, Sanguine wasn't paying attention until she whipped out a sheet, and everyone was signing their names on it. He didn't even need to ask Clavicus whether there was something up with it; he could feel a rather malevolent hex radiating from it from where they were sat.

'Now that's a dodgy deal,' Clavicus muttered with a grin. 'I'm so proud.' Sanguine snorted in response. The pair certainly enjoyed meddling with the affairs of mortals; despite Sanguine's earlier insult, Clavicus Vile was the prince of shady agreements, so he needed mortals. Sanguine was the same; hedonism and debauchery just wasn't the same without humans. Nosing around in the doings of other worlds was great fun.

Exchanging a brief glance, the pair departed their seats and Sanguine signed his name with a flourish underneath Cho Chang. The shocked expressions of about half of the people there was definitely penseive-worthy.

'Why so surprised?' he asked, shooting them a grin somewhere between feral and charming. Clavicus peered at the page, before signing it as well. 'Come on Atlas, lets go buy a shit ton of sweets and feed them to Mehrunes.' By Mehrunes, he naturally meant that Mehrunes would tell them to get lost and they'd feed them to Sheogorath, but Clavicus knew that an absolute disaster was impending either way, so was more than happy to leave.

The pub was left in a state of unease, with Sheogorath laughing hysterically at one point, just after Clavicus and Sanguine left.

'I don't get them!' Hermione exclaimed to Harry and Ron as the trio made their way back to the carriages to return to school. 'Atlas is a Malfoy, and doesn't even seem to care, and Sam being in a relationship with him?'

'I don't think they're together,' Luna helpfully provided from directly behind them, making Ron swear under his breath. She was arm in arm with...

'Gareth!' The insane Ravenclaw and... the other insane Ravenclaw were both oddly astute, not to mention part of the clique of odd students from all across the houses.

'They would make an awful couple,' Gareth nodded, solemn. 'Atlas doesn't like cheese. Sam is too fun for him.' That... didn't quite make sense to the Gryffindors, but the wheels were turning in Hermione's head.

'Were they just trying to sell us out to Umbridge?' Harry piped up, eyebrows furrowed.

'Don't know, don't care!' Gareth sung. 'Let's be off, my princess.' He was, truly, the best match for Looney Lovegood they could imagine.

'If they do, we'll know,' Hermione said, going a little red as she explained the Jinx on the parchment.

'Bloody hell,' Ron muttered. 'Harry, we've corrupted her.'


	9. Chapter 9

_The Decree and the Virgin Prince_

The educational decree was the first sign that they'd been betrayed, but, to the trio's frustration, no one had anything etched into their foreheads in boils - not even Atlas Malfoy or Sam Guevenne. The pair of Slytherins, meanwhile, were plotting in the Chamber of Secrets. Discovering that Clavicus had, somewhere in his adventures, gained the ability to speak to snakes (a skill that Harry Potter also allegedly possessed) was a boon that got them into several mysterious parts of the school.

'I wish I'd have been here for this,' Sanguine practically sang from where he was hanging inside the skeletal Basilisk's mouth. The poisonous fangs didn't even scratch him as he swung from giant tooth to giant tooth. Clavicus was busy musing, glaring at his book hard enough to set in on fire.

'What do you think the three of them will do?' Clavicus asked, waving a hand to extinguish his smouldering textbook. Sanguine dropped down from where he was hanging, before sitting on a clear patch of the floor to consider his answer.

'Probably freak out,' he supplied. 'A lot. Then they might realise we aren't as awful as some.' They paused, before immediately saying "Boethiah". 'She's in their house and even Zabini's mentioned in passing that she seems evil. Molag just likes showing off and shouting - Boethiah is the one to watch out for.' He sighed dramatically, laying out on the floor.

'What?' Clavicus asked, narrowing his eyes. Sanguine had stopped himself from saying something there, but Clavicus had known him literally forever.

'Well...' Sanguine rolled over, looking serious for once. 'Just surprised that you're still a virgin.' Clavicus jolted, glad that robes were an utter state in comparison to his toga, because he suddenly felt very exposed. Where the Oblivion had that thought of Sanguines come from? He immediately considered Sanguine's occupation, and it became clearer - and more awkward.

'What of it?' he retorted, folding his arms around his knees, a furious blush creeping along his cheekbones. Sanguine waved a dismissive hand - it wasn't a conversation for now.


	10. Chapter 10

_The DA and the Duel_

The first meeting of the so called DA was intriguing. Clavicus and Sanguine had indeed found a way to sneak themselves in, and loitered near the back - everyone formed a charming little circle about three feet away from them.

'I feel so loved,' Sanguine muttered. Clavicus snorted in agreement. 'Expelliarmus though? Let's show the Lion Cubs how it's done.' As everyone split into pairs, the Daedra stood opposite each other, wands readied. The handful of other Princes assembled (namely Sheogorath, Azura and Meridia) found themselves glancing curiously at the two.

'Did the others just decide it wasn't worth the hassle?' Clavicus mused. With that, the signal to go was shouted, and the pair began their furious attacks. The disarming spells they'd shot would've hit their marks, had they not cancelled out each other. Then began a rapid series of disarmings, resummoning wands, and then just a wandless squabble, just short of legillimency. The only thing that eventually stopped them was a slow round of applause from their resident boy-who-lived, who seemed genuinely impressed.

After noting that the entire room had stopped to watch, Clavicus paled and turned heel, running out of the room. Sanguine knew that family pride was the least of his troubles, but Lucius Malfoy performing the Cruciatus curse on him still caused Sanguine's stomach to churn. Not sparing the room a second glance, he chased after his fellow Prince.

He thought he'd lost the Prince somewhere in the halls and trick stairs, but when he found himself at the dungeons, he smiled inwardly. Clavicus was nothing if not predictable. Whispering the password, he made his way to the sixth year dorms, just a door down from his own room.

'Hey,' he called, knocking on the door. 'Atlas, are you in there?' There was no response, but he pushed the door open and made his way in. Clavicus' curtains had been pulled, and he crawled onto the bed beside him, casting a quick muffilato around them. The technically younger Prince was sulking, and it was amusing to watch.

'Stupid meeting,' he eventually muttered. Sanguine set a (mostly) reassuring hand on his leg, rubbing it to try and dissipate some of the tension from Vile's shoulders. It worked eventually, and his shoulders relaxed. 'Please remove your hand from my inner thigh,' his eyebrow twitched as Sanguine complied. 'Okay, hand out of my waistband. San- Stop touching me.' Both Princes glanced at each other, before cracking into laughter.


	11. Chapter 11

_The Gathering and the Other Gathering_

Their pity party was rudely interrupted by a fire message from Hermaeus, calling for a meeting immediately. Rolling their eyes at the theatrics, they raced each other to the room of requirement, and were among the first there - only Peryite, Namira and Mephala had arrived before them, and they seemed to have formed an alliance that made Sanguine uneasy. As the other princes began to arrive, they launched a riveting game of "Who put the Dragonbron through the most shit?". Before Peryite could finish explaining his tale of basically drugging the poor human, Hermaeus arrived in all his dramatic glory. Peryite protested, but it was Boethiah that shut him up.

'Your shrine in Skyrim is a bowl,' she snapped. 'Not even a big bowl. Shut up.' He scowled at that, folding his arms and resting them, and his head, on the table.

'You're wondering why I called you here,' the Prince of Knowing Things said, inspiring a few glares. 'This is to discuss Tom Riddle and Harry Potter.' There was an almighty sigh, and a few other Princes let their heads hit the table, Sanguine included. When even his fellow Daedra start obsessing over the celebrity - that's where he draws the line.

'I say we kill Potter and go home,' Molag Bal drawled. 'The less time I spend here, the happier I'll be.'

'Or we kill Riddle and go home,' Boethiah countered, glaring at her arch nemesis. Before the squabbling started - which everyone knew would ultimately shift to the Vestige - Meridia butted in, Saving herself more than anything.

'Or we could listen to Hermaeus Mora,' she supplied, eyebrow twitching. She didn't want to get dragged back into the whole Vestige vs Molag Bal debate.

Meanwhile, the Golden Trio were musing over their suspicions. After all, Atlas and Sam were inherently suspicious, and after their little display, everyone felt uneasy about the pair sticking around for future DA meetings.

'No one could be that good at duelling without being taught,' Harry said, waving an expressive hand around. Ron was in agreement, citing the Dark Lord. Hermione wasn't so sure - she'd seen the look on his face when he ran.


	12. Chapter 12

_The Exams and the Tea_

Sanguine didn't know what had come of the meeting between the other Princes - he'd gotten bored and wandered off halfway through. What had amused him was when Hircine rushed past, citing that he was late for his detention from the hippogriff incident 2.0. While he wanted the details on that, Sanguine knew he wasn't on good enough terms with the hunter for them. As a result, he naturally turned to Mephala for the juicy details of the Hogwarts rumour mill.

'It really wasn't that interesting,' the Prince of secrets informed him with a roll of her eyes. 'Hircine has an affinity for animals, although I think they're just scared of him. He set them loose on Namira's toad when she was inspecting the lesson on thestrals - Hermaeus knows how he managed it though.' With the intriguing story on his mind, he walked straight into Potter, precious Potter, who was running back from somewhere.

Sanguine could smell blood.

'Get out of the way,' he muttered, shoving past 'Sam'. The Daedra noted, amused, that without his little ginger friend, Vaermina's brother, he wasn't nearly as brave.

The next plot twist arrived when the Quidditch team hit a little hiccup, and by that Sanguine meant that half of the Gryffindor team were banned from playing thanks to an... altercation. Sanguine had no problems with this whatsoever - not because he was a 'true Slytherin', but because it was simply amusing, and when the Weasley twins decided to depart from the school, they left such a state of chaos that Sheogorath had wiped a tear from his eye. The exams were an utter disaster as a result, but he'd probably failed DADA anyway; he and Clavicus had stopped attending the little DA meetings, and just in time - they'd been having far too many close calls.

On an interesting note, Unbridge, whom Vaermina had taken to calling 'Umbitch', had tried to recruit him for some kind of Inquisition, and had spiked his tea. After lying straight through the potion, he dutifully informed the Golden Trio to avoid the tea during their interrogation.

They didn't trust him, but that had saved their hides.


	13. Chapter 13

_The Nightmare and the Departure_

One night, Potter had raised utter Oblivion around the castle, running down the halls shouting for half the night. Utterly unamused, Sanguine ceased his make out session with Sheogorath and decided to nose around. Upon leaving the shadowy classroom, he caught a glimpse of Professor McGonagall's nightgown and a mop of black hair disappear around the corner. Dismissing it as another Potter™ thing, he headed back down to the dungeons before he could get called out for being absent.

Vaermina's holidays began early, the lucky Daedra, because it would seem that Potter had dreamt about her 'father', the Weasley Patriarch, being attacked - and it had happened. It seemed rigged. With a knowing look, she bade farewell to Sanguine that morning, but they'd see each other soon enough when he went to stay with them. He was considered one of the Hufflepuff's only friends by her family, so accepted their offers to let him stay every year with a charming smile. Wiping an imaginary tear from her scowling face, he wished her a safe journey and her father all the best.

Granger approached him during one of his 'study time fun time' sessions with Hermaeus, who had already memorised everything, to ask about occlumency.

'I remember Professor Snape saying that you were quite skilled at it Sam,' she said. 'Harry needs some help with it, but he won't ask so...' Sanguine cringed at the reminder. During one particularly heated potions lesson, he had brought up something that a quick 'legilimens' had told him about the Professor. This resulted in an awkward, thirty second mental assault, which Sanguine was proud to say he had won. After all, he couldn't have poor little Severus seeing all the atrocities he'd committed.

'Of course I'll help,' he replied, beaming. Hermaeus snorted and returned to his book, which he was reading for the third time.

The exchange had told him three things.

One, Granger was suspicious of them.

Two, the Headmaster was a suspicious character.

Three, Potter had someone else's soul wedged in his forehead.


	14. Chapter 14

_The Festivities and the Convict_

Usually, Christmas was hosted at the Burrow, but not this year, it would seem.

In light of all that had transpired before the holidays, they were holding the Yuletide gathering at 12 Grimmauld Place - the dingy residence of Sirius Black, Potter's godfather and an ex-con, although Sanguine was assured that he was innocent - and promptly sworn to secrecy. All in all, it was a more enlightening experience than his holidays usually were, especially when he sat down for a little chat with Harry.

'So you're learning occlumency from Snape?' he asked, wincing. Snape was not a patient man, and he did not like the boy.

He even received some presents from the other Princes and students. Clavicus had found some particularly nasty love potions and sent a book along from the Malfoy library on how to make them; Mephala had sent him a tactful bunch of red roses, while he had received a customary Weasley jumper in red and black. Vaermina's gift was one that made him snort - scented candles, cited to help mortals get a restful night. Sharing a knowing smirk across the table at the irony of the present, Vaermina had to try to explain to her bemused family that Sam had been having dreadful nights, tossing and turning.

Sure.

He began trying to help Potter with his occlumency; meditation and focus weren't his strong points, so while encouraging him to practice being calm, Sanguine knew he was a Gryffindor.

'Perhaps offence could be your best defence,' he mused, recalling Potter's horror story of a first lesson. He also realised that, really, he was on the side of the boy-who-lived in the grand scheme of things. Although he wasn't alone in that view, he knew that several people did disagree - notably Molag Bal and Vaermina, both of whom supported Voldemort. Ah well, it would work itself out. He hoped that Clavicus would appreciate his present, although he had warned him not to open it in front of the "family". Narcissa was a lovely woman, and did not need to see the latex present her teenage son had received.


	15. Chapter 15

_The Capture and the Resignation_

Sanguine had recently learnt of the existence of the Order of the Phoenix, and couldn't help but draw parallels between Potter's DA. Both went against rules, both had a relatively unpopular leader, and both revolved around Harry Potter. The only difference, he supposed, was that the Order of the Phoenix kept secrets from their precious Potter.

Speaking of whom, his lessons in occlumency had not been going better, and Sanguine had lost interest in teaching him - Potter was a loose cannon, a lost cause, and Sanguine did not want him to turn around and use legilimency on him.

Another notable difference was that the DA had just been busted.

'Looks like the old man is on the run,' Clavicus mused, eyeing over the Daily Prophet. Sanguine risked a sideways glance at Nocturnal, who met his eye and smirked. It would appear as though the light had found themselves an ally of the shadow. The irony was not wasted on him. He was aware though, that some Princes would be naturally opposed to the light. A prime example was Mehrunes Dagon - by his very nature, he'd support Voldemort. Namira, whose minions were already working with the Dark Lord. There were others too, but most eyes were on Boethiah and Molag Bal, because they could certainly start a war over something as petty as a Dark Lord from another dimension.

The pair of Slytherins went for a walk after that, Sanguine playfully bumping Clavicus' shoulder now and then. That was until they walked past Umbitch's office, where Potter's gang seemed to be in... a spot of trouble. Exchanging a glance between them, the Princes decided that they were on the same side, and that was the side where they got to punch the insufferable brats in their own house. Clavicus was slightly disappointed - to protect his identity, Sanguine had been doing most of the butt kicking.

'They've got Padfoot,' Potter exclaimed, and Sanguine's eyebrows shot up. That was Sirius' codename; did the Dark Lord have him?

'Where, Potter?' he asked, following the Gryffindor and his friends out onto the grounds, Clavicus just behind.

'The Ministry,' he replied. 'I'm going alone.' In that moment, Sanguine had believed that Gryffindors had a bad reputation for trouble-seeking. It would seem that their reputation preceded them, and their stupidity knew no bounds.


	16. Chapter 16

_The Mystery and the Prophecy_

After a significant amount of cajoling, Sanguine and Vaermina were travelling - by thestrals of all things - to the Ministry of Magic, where no doubt they were going to get bollocksed. By this point, he was honestly in it for the ride. Their arrival was met with suspiciously little resistance, and Sanguine was, in that moment, grateful that he was immortal. Were he mortal, he'd be very afraid - damn Gryffindors.

'What an exciting field trip!' Sanguine muttered, sarcasm dripping from his voice. After all, he wasn't best fond of Lovegood or Longbottom, and they were the two clinging to his arms, with Longbottom using him as an immortal shield. It soon became clear that Sirius wasn't there - Sanguine prided himself on his top-notch senses, and couldn't sense him anywhere in the building. Of course, there was the off chance that it was to do with the magic in the area, or perhaps he was dead already, but there wasn't a trace of him.

'This feels like a trap,' Vaermina hissed, poking Ron, her twin brother, in the ribs. He twitched, but said nothing - even the thick headed Gryffindor could sense that something was off.

Off it was indeed. Once in the room filled with the glass orbs (certainly Vaermina, Mephala, Nocturnal or Hermaeus' domain) Potter found one with his name on. As soon as it was in his grasp, they were ambushed by the 'Death Eaters', the followers of the wizarding Dark Lord. He didn't believe an ounce of what was going on, but his instincts were screaming at him to destroy the damn thing and kill everyone in their way. What he hadn't been expecting, however, was to be knocked out cold in the middle of the fight when a nasty green bolt of light shot his way.

When he regained consciousness, he was under a white sheet. _Shit_ , he thought. _This won't go well_. If his assumptions were correct, he'd been hit by the killing curse, and was now presumed dead. What the Oblivion had happened while he was dead? Things about the night came back in drips and drabs, before being hit. Long blonde hair. Luna's? No.

Lucius Malfoy.

The ambush.

They'd been losing. Where was he now? Panic began to settle in - an uncommon sensation for an immortal being. It would seem as though spending so long in a mortal vessel in actual, mortal years was taking its toll on him. He was almost... scared. He was a true Slytherin - he wasn't brave, he was a manipulator. Were he Boethiah, he would be far more confident. Were he Hermaeus Mora, he'd have seen this coming, and know exactly what to do. If he were Sheogorath, he wouldn't give enough shits to worry.

He was Sanguine. He wasn't brave, or smart, or insane.

He was presumed dead.

Without further ado, he returned his consciousness to Oblivion, leaving his mortal vessel to lie peacefully under the white sheet in the hospital.


	17. Chapter 17

_The Murder and the Power of Love_

The mood in the Great Hall was subdued.

The Golden Trio mourned the loss of Sirius Black, who never got the chance to clear his name before his cousin murdered him. Bellatrix, the woman whom everyone in the Malfoy family assured Clavicus he got his looks from. The Azkaban mugshot in the Daily Prophet was proof of the uncanny similarities, and people now began to point it out.

Clavicus, meanwhile, was furious that Sanguine had bailed on him. His only friend in the cursed place, and he was "dead". Clavicus could guess what had happened, and Vaermina had confirmed it. The showdown that had occurred between the Death Eaters and The Order resulted in the students getting caught in the middle. Sanguine, the prat, had been hit by the killing curse, which took him straight out. It had been seen, and he couldn't come back from the dead that easily. He sighed, picking at his toast, ignoring the sense of glee and apprehension rolling off from his housemates.

Dumbledore gave a speech; Clavicus wasn't actually paying attention, nor did he clap when Gryffindor won the House cup - again. He knew it would be boring without his ally, but had his eyes set on a new target.

'So, Potter,' he said, voice quiet as he sat opposite the boy on the train. 'What's Dumbledore told you?' Politely accepting Hermione's condolences, he focussed his amber glare on the almighty chosen one. For a moment, Clavicus wasn't sure he'd tell him, a Slytherin, but Clavicus let a little sadness find its way into his eyes,

'There's a Prophecy,' he sighed. 'I've got to kill Voldemort.' The exact wording of the prophecy wasn't divulged, but Clavicus was a passable legilimens, and... Potter was not a skilled occlumens. Clavicus let his gaze drop, staring at his knees instead. After a good while, his forehead dropped and rested on his knee, leaving him at quite an awkward angle - the others now assumed he'd dozed off, thank Merlin.

'Apparently,' Potter explained, 'my mum saved me by sacrificing herself.' He was disappointed that he didn't get the chance to gauge the reactions of the other two, because there was no doubt that it was a _delicious_ expression of fear and shock.

He pledged to himself that he would forge a deal with the golden boy, and he would win this game.


	18. Chapter 18

_The Departure and the Conclusion_

He was making his way around the other Princes, discussing the events of the year with them individually. Mephala, Nocturnal, Hermaeus Mora and Vaermina all knew everything, naturally, but the rest were eager to hear of the events that had transpired throughout the year. Clavicus, having offered his apologies to the golden trio and departed, headed straight to the compartment they usually inhabited. Shooting a glare at Boethiah, who had taken Sanguine's seat, he settled himself down by the window.

'Sanguine fucking bailed on us,' Meridia sighed. 'I'm going to wring his neck when we get back.' Clavicus wisely avoided mentioning that she was the Prince of _life_ , and had just juxtaposed her own existence.

'Am I correct in assuming that we all support Harry Potter then?' he asked, cautious. Nocturnal, Meridia, Boethiah, himself and Hircine. It could've been worse, but a number of Princes had claimed that they wanted nothing to do with the chaos they were weaving. Malacath, Molag Bal, Namira, Mephala and Peryite had settled themselves on the opposing side, quite carefully, while the rest remained frustratingly neutral. Why they didn't seem to want to pick a side and get the war over with was beyond him.

He went on to explain the details he'd picked up from his little nap in the other carriage, notably the blood sacrifice he'd heard about - the one that kept Potter safe as long as he lived with his blood relatives.

'He gets abused, you know,' Nocturnal pegged in, voice low. They spent some time in silence for a while, or at least until Draco stormed in, demanding to speak to his brother Atlas.

'What is it?' the Prince asked, exasperated. He doubted it was anything good, and he wasn't currently on best terms with the boy.

'We have- we have a task,' he muttered, raising the sleeve of his robe with a knowing glance. Lowering his voice further, he leant in to whisper to his brother. 'We're to get the Death Eaters into Hogwarts next year.'


End file.
